#muggle au marauders

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

an incomplete list of my hced modern!muggle!au sirius black jobs !!!

neurosurgeon

nuclear physicist

mechanic

highschool maths teacher

make up artist

quantum physics professor

tattoo artist

criminal lawyer

artist (guitarist/vocalist/violinist/pianist)

f1 driver

bartender

forensic phycologist

vet

parkour instructor

runway model

crime scene investigator

landlord

prisonor reform advocate

[twink-remus-lupin]

youtuber au

remus runs a book review channel that has slowly been turning into a drama and rant channel

sirius and james run a joint prank channel but it’s significantly more humane than most of the popular ones (they also mostly prank each other and nothing is staged)

lily runs a true crime channel that collabs with remus frequently for special horror episodes

peter is a gamer and actually has the most subscribers out of all of them for his valorant streams

snape has multiple hate blogs for each of them

[ellecdc]

HEAR ME OUT

former fboy barty who is now madly in love with reader and reader is like his first actual serious girlfriend

ARE WE SEEING THE VISION

I'M SEEING THE VISION HERE YOU GO; also, it's a continuation of this post but can be read as a standalone

Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who doesn't do 'casual' [1k words]

CW: brief mention of past harassment, mention of past sexual encounter but nothing explicit and SFW

Barty said goodbye to Evan in way of putting his hand against his mouth to get him to stop talking and then shoving his face away from him as he started taking purposeful strides for you. 

He’d only opted to come to class today in hopes of seeing you, and he’d only deigned to hang around afterwards so that he could talk to you after you finished speaking with the Professor.

Barty had been struggling to get you out of his mind for over a week now ever since you approached him in the club asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend, which ended in a very enjoyable romp afterwards.

And he’d be lying if he wasn’t hoping for another tryst as he pulled the door open for you before you’d even had a chance to push it; a look of wary surprise crossing your face before it melted into a smile.

That smile made him feel funny. 

“Well hello, my darling girlfriend.” He teased as he fell into step with you. 

“Hello, Barty.” You chuckled as you gently nudged him with your elbow. “Alright?”

“Fantastic, thank you. I’ve been thinking about the fun we had the other night.” He said as he moved to stand in front of you, smiling in that way of his that he knew usually got him what he wanted.

You simply smirked knowingly and raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Fleeing from a bar without paying your tab?”

Barty scoffed and waved you off. “My dad owns that bar, it’s fine. No, I meant what happened afterwards.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as you scrutinised him. “You mean when I thanked you profusely-”

“-multiple times-” Barty amended, earning him a salacious grin from you.

“-multiple times, for saving me from that creep?”

“Precisely.” Barty agreed with a nod. 

“That was fun.” You admitted, to which Barty quickly agreed. “But I don't think so, Barty. Sorry.”

“Oh… oh! Okay…erm, may I ask why not?” He sputtered as he took two long strides in order to catch up with you as you continued walking across campus. 

“You may.” You relented simply, smirking when you saw Barty roll his eyes from your periphery. 

“Okay…why not?”

“I…listen, I had fun and I don’t regret it, but I don’t usually do…casual.” You admitted, looking embarrassed for all intents and purposes as you stared down at Barty’s shoes and chewed on your lower lip. 

“Casual.” Barty parroted, fighting the urge to relieve your lower lip from its torment and, perhaps disturbingly, afflict it to his own torment. 

“Right, I…I don’t usually do casual sex, that was uhm…that was a one time thing for me.” 

“Oh, so…so, you only have sex when you’re dating someone?” Barty concluded.

“Right.”

“Great. Go on a date with me.” 

You barked a laugh as you continued walking, only to turn and see that Barty wasn’t following nor was he laughing as he was really quite serious.

“Are you-…you’re not serious, are you?”

“Mmm, nope, I’m quite serious, actually.” He responded.

“Barty.” You huffed somewhat chidingly. “I’ve never once seen you speak to the same girl twice. Well, save Meadows, but I’m quite certain she likes girls, so.”

Barty simply shrugged at you, not seeing at all what the issue was here. “There’s a first time for everything, no? I’m standing here talking to you for a second time, am I not?” 

“I’m just…I’m looking for something serious, Barty.”

“I can be serious!” He argued rather petulantly. 

“I’m not going to ask you for something you might not be capable of giving me.” You sighed.

“Are you challenging me? Is this a challenge? Because I’ll have you know I’ve never once lost a bet.”

“I’m not challenging you, Barty.” You laughed affectionately at him. “Monogamy and commitment isn’t your thing, and that’s fine! I’m not judging you or blaming you at all; I just think we might want different things.”

Barty stepped forward so that he was standing but a few inches from you, forcing you to look up at him. “Well, what I want is you.”

“You want me right now.” You whispered back; some of the fight clearly leaving you as you searched between his eyes.

“I’ll prove it. Let me prove it to you.” He insisted, daring to push some of your hair falling from its restraint away from your eyes. 

You sighed somewhat sadly as your bottom lip threatened to jut out. “I’m not worth breaking your rules for, Barty.”

“I think I can decide that for myself, no?” He murmured back.

He had to admit this is the softest he’d ever been with anyone before, but it was also the softest he’d ever felt with anyone before.

He didn’t usually get caught up on people; not like this, not like you. 

But you awoke something inside of him that night when you darted out of the sea of bodies like he was the last life raft of a sinking ship, your eyes wild and desperate as you clung to him.

He was always down for a ruse, so when you’d asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend he was more than happy to cause a little chaos. But when he’d heard you were scared, harassed, bothered? Well, the deep, black, protective rage that had him nearly fusing your body to his was something completely foreign to him.

He wanted more of it.

He wanted you.

And if this is what you needed from him? Well, he’d be that for you. 

“Teach me? I’m a quick learner, rather clever too.” He asked as he tilted your head up by your chin and forced you to look at him. 

“I…I don’t want to be an experiment.”

“I don’t either.” He agreed. “I just want you to be mine.”

You searched his eyes for a few more moments before letting out a dramatic sigh. 

“Fine, but I will be teaching you and there will be a quiz at the end of this so do keep up.” You hollered at him over your shoulder, though your small smile gave away the fact that it was all for show.

“Don’t you worry, treasure; I perform very well on tests.”

[pretty-little-mind33]

Ice Hockey James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You wait for your boyfriend after his game — In the same universe as Suburban Legends

Genre: Fluff <3

Warnings: muggle au, college au, swearing

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You stand in the lobby of the rink, your arms are crossed across your chest and you're cursing yourself for only wearing his jersey instead of something warmer. Still, you smile. How can you mind when you can remember how happy James looked when saw you in the stands?

You pace around, waiting another few minutes until you start to become impatient. All his teammates have left the rink, which is something you know because you've counted each of their high-fives.

You have only been dating James Potter for a month now, but his teammates act like they've already taken you in as one of their own. 

"I didn't think you'd wait for me this long." you hear him. His voice is a little hoarse and he's rotating his shoulder around as he grimaces.

"Is your arm okay?" you ask, standing up and meeting him in the middle of the lobby. He was shoved pretty hard into the plexiglass and you look up at him, concerned. 

His lips curl into a little smirk, "Worried about me, Y/l/n?" He whispers and leans in close.

"As your girlfriend, I feel like if I wasn't worried then we'd have a problem," you chuckle and roll your eyes at his insistence to continue calling you by your last name. He says it's a habit but you're convinced he just likes to see you flustered.

"Come on I'm starving," you take his hand and try to lead him towards the door. 

"Shit," James groans, "I forgot my gloves in the locker room," 

You drop his hand and turn around, crossing your arms. "Are you seriously making me wait for you longer than I already have?" 

He shakes his head with a smile, "No. You're coming with me this time." It's his turn to take your hand and he practically pulls you to the locker rooms. 

"Jamie, slow down," you say.

Suddenly, you're pressed against the wall of the empty hallway as James's arms cage around your head. His hockey bag had fallen onto the ground and he leans his head downwards so that you can look into his eyes. His eyes shine and he's giving you the most obvious, "I wanna to kiss you," pout. 

"What are you doing?" you feign coy behind a laugh as he slides his hands down to the side of your head and cups your cheeks in his hands. He's so close it's incredibly intoxicating.

"Kissing you?"

You smile, nodding, and he leans down to kiss along your neck. His hips press into mine and you think I've finally lost all sensibility. "You drive me insane — you and my fucking jersey," he whispers as his kisses move upwards and his knuckles skim the fabric of his jersey near your breasts.

"You're the one who wanted me have it."

"Yeah, to wear around your dorm—not during my games," he says and his hands climb up the wall again as you look up at him, "If your plan is to distract me when I'm supposed to be paying attention to the game, you should know it's working more than it should…"

You grin and stare at him with wide eyes. You make sure to chew on your lower lip so that you're doing exactly what you know turns him on. "Seems like a misunderstood then," you say, "Still, I didn't think you would have a problem with everyone knowing I'm yours, James." 

Something snaps inside him and that's when he kisses you. 

It's raw and rough, but the way his strong arms wrap around you waist to pull you closer is gentle and you melt into his arms. Wantonly, you run your hand through his hair. The dark brown locks are slightly messy from being under his helmet and when James feels me pull on them, his breath jumps in his throat,

"Everyone already knows you're mine." He whispers and then continues to kiss you.

You pull him even closer and with his good arm, he wraps one of my legs around his hip. You're both so engrossed in our activity you, unfortunately, don't hear footsteps until, James's coach clears his throat,

James stops kissing you and carefully lowers your leg onto the ground. He hides you behind him as you turn around, his cheeks crimson from embarrassment, as you attempt to calm your internal panic. 

"Hey," James says, weirdly casual.

"Rink is closing, Potter. Go home." His coach says and you peek at him from behind James's shoulder. He sees me and sighs, "You too, Y/n."

"Will do, sir." James says. Quickly, he lifts his bag back onto his shoulder and holds your hand. You mumble a small, "sorry" as you walk by his coach but you don't think he hears you considering you can't even bear to look at him. 

Once you're back in the lobby, you bury your head in your hands, "I'm so embarrassed," you groan. James laughs and rubs your shoulders.

You look up at him and frown, "This really isn't funny."  

"Coach doesn't care. I promise." James reassures you.

"Why? Is this not the first time he's caught you kissing someone here?" you ask, sounding more jealous than intended.

James's expression softens and, holding your hips, he pulls you close enough to kiss your forehead, "How many times to I have to promise you I'm not, and have never been, a player?" 

You nod, smiling guiltily, "Yeah, I know. I shouldn't have asked that, I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge, Y/l/n," James jokes and kisses your temple. He swings his arm around your shoulder, "I remember someone said they were hungry, shall we eat now?" 

"Wait, what about your gloves?"

James grins wolfishly. "Oh, those are in my bag, I just wanted to make out with you."

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg (pretending like i didn't just forget this until now!!)

[mischievousmoony]

𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜

⟢ james potter x reader ⟢ your boyfriend walks a drunk you home ⊹ 773 ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Babyyy wait,” you whine, tripping over your own two feet as you walk down the abandoned streets of London.

You lean against the bricks of a random townhouse, swaying slightly. James’ hand, which hasn’t left the small of your back since you two left the bar, presses against you more firmly while his other raises to grip your waist, effectively steadying you in place.

The pair of you are heading home from a long night out with friends. Well into the A.M., James made the decision to bid your friends goodnight when he interrupted a game of ‘who can drink more’ between you and Sirius.

“What is it?” he asks, eyes carefully studying every inch your face as if your expression will reveal all of your thoughts and worries.

“M’shoe’s untied,” you mumble, looking down at your white trainers, scuffed from the way you’ve been kicking your own feet as you stumble home.

James’ eyes follow yours, “Oh, I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, pressing an affectionate kiss against your temple as his head comes back up. He takes in your surroundings quickly, his eyes landing on the front steps to the townhouse you’re planted against.

“C’mere,” he says, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist to lead you to the stone stairs.

He eases you down on the second step, not before brushing any dirt or debris out of your way, and kneels before you.

James makes quick work of your shoelaces, checking in that he hasn’t drawn them too tightly before he finishes looping them through.

You mumble a complaint at the second tie, changing your mind about the tightness as you uncomfortably wiggle your foot in your shoe. Without a shred of frustration, James unties your shoe and loosens the laces before he starts again.

“How’s that, love?” he asks, his fingers pitter pattering against the firm leather that encases your toes.

You wiggle your foot again before deciding, “Better,” with a pleased smile playing at your lips.

“Alright,” James says, his voice gravely as he pushes himself up into a standing position. He holds both of his hands out to you, “Let’s get you up now.”

You place your hands in his large ones, but just ask he starts to tug you up, your arms go slack.

James breathes out chuckles of amusement. “You’ve got to help me some, love.”

“‘M tired,” you complain, your body following suit as you hang limply from James’ hands.

His eyes are soft as he watches you sink into some strangers front steps. Any other person would probably be quite annoyed trying to usher a drunk you home, but James is filled with nothing but an unwavering adoration for you.

“The sooner we get you up, the sooner we get you in bed,” James says in a lilting, convincing voice.

“Could just sleep here on the pavement,” you decide, your eyes fluttering in a series of exhausted blinks.

If it comes down to it, James would be resolute about carrying you home and letting you sleep in his arms, but he tries one more tactic before resorting to that.

“Think about this, though, if we get you to our warm bed we can wrap ourselves up in our cozy blankets,” his tone remains soft and compelling, “and I’ll get to hold you and run my fingers through that pretty hair.”

You stir at his words, holding onto his hands a bit firmer.

“Yeah?” you wonder.

“Yeah, my love. So, what do you say? Will you let me take you home so I can hold you?” James gives your hands a loving squeeze.

“Mhm,” you hum, your head bobbing in a nod as you finally brace yourself to be lifted.

James bares his teeth triumphantly. “Here we go,” he warns before tugging to you your feet.

You stumble into him, but James is ready to catch you as his arms wrap protectively around your waist.

He arches his upper body away from you so he can get a good look. One of his hands comes to the side of your head to smooth out your hair affectionately, “Ready to keep going?” he asks.

You hum another positive response and James pecks you twice, once on the forehead and then he can’t resist planting another on your lips.

He swivels, pressing his side into yours as his protective arm remains clasped around you, and begins leading you back down the street.

“Let’s get you home now,” he whispers lovingly.

“Where you’ll play with m’hair?” you verify, your drunken words melting together lazily.

His throat rumbles with tender laughter. “Yes, love, where I’ll play with your hair.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[evansisasadist]

Marauders characters as who’d they be in a primary school nativity with little explanations:

James: Joseph(he drops the baby Jesus)

Remus: Innkeeper(he cries)

Sirius: Angel Gabriel(makes all the old ladies say “ahh bless him”

Peter: The Donkey(takes his role very seriously)

Marlene: Shepherd(Was too enthusiastic as a sheep)

Lily: Wiseman(enough said)

Mary: Mary(she gives a very emotive performance)

Pandora: Star(she wanted to be a sheep)

Regulus: Cow(cries the whole time)

Dorcas: Wiseman(Again enough said)

Barty: Chicken(spends half of the play looking out the window)

Evan: Sheep(he’s a very happy bunny)

[charlie-jl]

My contribution to @marauderswithpalestineproject

Prompt #227 : “Sirius and Remus meet cute at a yarn shop, muggle au, hea”

I was so excited to see this prompt by BrigidFaye, it was a pleasure to work on!

I wanted to include more of a comic/story aspect where the two of them reach for the same yarn (cliche, ik), so just imagine that happened 🩷

Close ups:

[santaasi]

raison d'être

pairing: james potter x shy!reader

summary: james potter never thought that the most terrible day of his life could give him a new reason for existing

warnings: muggle au, fluff, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i’m alive!! but i feel like with all my uni and graduating stuff i just lost inspiration. but i promise that very soon there will be more fics! love u all. have a good time readings my new work <з

JAMES POTTER HAS NEVER BEEN A LOSER. On the contrary, his life has always been like an endless lottery win. Ideal and loving parents, who provided him with everything he needed and supported him at every step. Friends who were always there for him even in the worst. A perfect career in sports that was only going uphill every day and promised to take James to new heights. James Potter was a golden boy who always seemed to be surrounded by a halo of luck. In all his twenties, he didn't know what failure and lose were. Troubles avoided him and it was something familiar to him. That's why when everything went wrong on one of the most important days of his life, James was taken aback.

It was one of hundreds of other summer days when the weather in London was pleasing with its sunshine and warmth. And that was the day James Potter overslept for the first time in his life. And it would be fine if he was late for training or a regular meeting about plans for the week, but… James Potter overslept and was late for a meeting with their future sponsors, who would decide the fate of the team and its entry into a more perspective professional league.

But apparently this was not enough for fate (if it ever existed). The fate decided to mock James more by taking all his luck and replacing it with failure. Because as soon as he left the house and got into the car, it didn't start, although last night, when he returned from another get-together with Sirius and Remus at the bar, everything with his car was fine. He had to ride in a completely packed bus, breathing in sweat fumes and feeling someone's elbow dig into his lower ribs. By the time he got to the bus stop, the air in his lungs was starting to run out. And besides all that, James had to walk the long way to the sport base to protect his ass and buy coffee for everyone at the meeting, to pretend that this was what he had planned from the very beginning. It was Sirius's plan, which, to James' great surprise, sounded really good for the first time in what seemed like forever. But instead of going to the usual café on another street, James ran into a new coffee shop, which was right next to the sports base, which decently helped to shorten his time.

A bell rang over James's head as he entered a softly lit, bright space with a couple of tables and guests who were sitting here, working and drinking pleasantly smelling coffee. For a very recently opened place, the coffee shop probably really had a lot of popularity in the area. James covered the distance from the door to the cash desk in a couple of steps and opened a dialogue with Sirius, quickly rattling his order to the barista, whom he did not even deign to look up at.

"’m sorry, could you repeat the order more slowly? This is my first day and..." you whispered softly, biting your lip uncertainly, and James looked up. His gaze is full of anger, which made you swallow a lump in your throat.

You've never been good with people. Large crowds scared you, and even with your close friends you preferred to message rather than call. But when life shook you up and the deadlines for paying for college were already burning, you had to get over your fear and be interviewed at a new coffee shop near your house, where an employee was urgently needed. A week ago, you were over the moon when you were accepted. The job didn't seem difficult and learning the basics of barista work was even interesting, and most importantly, the customers were all friendly. And you even have a hope that working with people won't be so bad. But as soon as you were faced with James Potter's eyes full of irritation, all hope for something good immediately disappeared, replaced by fear and nervousness.

"Or... or I can call another more... experienced specialist..." you began softly, stumbling through the words.

When James Potter entered the café, he was really annoyed because of the plans that didn't go the way he wanted. But as soon as his gaze meet your frightened doe eyes, his face immediately softened and all the emotions that he had experienced before faded into nothing but pure adoration.

You were beautiful. No. You were lovely. You looked like a small frightened deer that has met a hunter in the forest. Innocent. Sweet. Elegant. James Potter didn't know that there were perfect people in this world, but looking at you, he was convinced of it. His world seemed to stop for a second, concentrating only on you and on awkward lowering of your stunning eyes and how you bit your lip and how your thin fingers was nervously fidgeting with the bottom of your apron.

You cleared your throat and said something. James didn't hear it. He was consumed by you. He wanted to get to know you. Beautiful pictures were already playing in James's head, like movie stills of how he would ask you for your phone number and how you would smile and hand him a crumpled tissue, which he would, of course, keep all day as the apple of his eye. He has already imagined your date. How he takes you to one of those silent film festivals that were taking place in London right now. How you will chat for days on end without thinking about anything. How at the end of the evening he will take you home and slightly bending down, the distance between you will be reduced, and then…

As soon as you turned around to leave, James immediately fell out of his fantasies, quickly trying not to let you leave. He reached across the counter and grabbed your wrist, forcing you to pay attention to him again. But as soon as he realized how uncultivated he was by violating your boundaries, he immediately took his hand away, stuffing them into the pockets of his jeans, guiltily lowering his eyes to the floor. It was not typical for James Potter to blush, but he could feel the heat rising up his neck, scorching his cheeks.

"Um... sorry... I-I can repeat the order," James said nervously, and you noticing his change of mood and awkwardness relaxed a little, listening attentively to his order once again.

You quickly handed him the check and asked him to wait next to the pick-up counter, smiling sweetly, which made James's heart skip a beat. He nodded wordlessly and swallowed, still feeling the tingling in his hand where your fingers touched his skin.

Waiting for his order, James couldn't take his eyes off you. Everything in him screamed that he should come up and ask you out or ask for your number, as he had done hundreds of times.… But he couldn't... something was stopping him. And so when his name came off your lips (he didn't think that his own name uttered by someone could make him almost faint) and you handed him a bag with his order, all he could do was whisper a quiet "thank you" and leave the coffee shop without even turning around.

He spent the rest of the day as if in a dream. James was sitting in a meeting trying to concentrate on the important things, but all he could think about was your smile, which made his heart skip a beat. At practice, James was also distracted, as if hearing your sonorous but soft voice everywhere, the memory of which made his body goosebumps.

James Potter spent the whole day in a daze until a bell rang above him and the door closed behind him with a thud. The cafe was empty, the chairs were raised on the tables and the one who completely confused his thoughts stood with her back to him, quietly humming some remotely familiar song playing on the radio. You slowly swayed your hips, moving backwards, mopping the white tile floor until your back hit James's hard chest. You suddenly screamed loudly and turned around, covering your mouth with hand in shock. James ran a nervous hand through his hair and frowned slightly.

"Sorry, I thought you were still working, I came in... to buy something to drink," James quickly rattled on one exhale, meeting your gaze.

You blinked quickly a couple of times, trying to move away from the shock that you experienced from an unexpected meeting with a visitor. In him, you immediately recognized the guy James, whom you first dubbed the last jerk that came to ruin your first working morning, and then you noticed how cute and sweet he was when a blu sh appeared on his cheeks and immediately melted away.

"No, no, we are still working... there were just no visitors and I decided to start cleaning early… But you can order... it's okay," you assured him, giving James a soft smile before turning around and standing behind the counter, putting the mop aside.

James looked at the menu carefully, and then at you. There was silence in the coffee shop for a couple of seconds, and you felt your cheeks start to burn from the piercing gaze of his coffee eyes. You slowly lowered your gaze, trying to hide a silly smile.

"What do you recommend?" clearing his throat, James asked without taking his eyes off you. He wanted to stay in your company as long as possible and get to know you better. At least for a little bit. "What's your favorite drink?"

"Hmm... I'm not a big fan of coffee," you thought, looking over your shoulder at the menu. "That's why I would recommend herbal tea with raspberries and mint..." you nodded, concentrating on the guy standing in front of you again and smiling. "Well, it's also my first day and I'm not sure I can make you a good coffee... so tea would be the safest option," you joked, biting the inside of your cheek.

James laughed hoarsely, throwing his head back and you shyly lowered your head, hiding the blush that became even brighter on your cheeks. James was the epitome of what the perfect man looked like in your fantasies. Slightly curly hair, warm brown eyes that when he smiled seemed to be able to warm the whole world and round glasses that brightened his face and gave him even more charm. Such a handsome guy must have had an equally beautiful girlfriend. You thought, but quickly pushed these thoughts away from you. He was just a client, you shouldn't have worried about these issues.

"Then I'll have tea... yeah... I'll have tea with raspberries and mint," James said, calming down a little, adjusting the rim of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, which had slipped off.

You nodded and turned away, brewing James your favorite tea, making yourself one cup along the way. He was lost in thought again, watching you do your job carefully and with concentration. Your finger was slowly sprinkled with herbs, mixing them with mint leaves and dried raspberries, along the way he noticed how you brought the herbs to your nose, inhaling their fragrance and gently smiled to yourself. You looked more relaxed and peaceful than you did this morning when James scared you with his impetuous words.

"Herbal tea with raspberries and mint for James," you announced the order as if there was someone beside the two of you, and James smiled brightly at you.

His hand lingered on yours for a couple of seconds longer than necessary, and you felt your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. There was not enough air in your lungs, and it was only when James took the cup of tea from your hands that you were able to take a ragged breath that did not pass James by. The guy grinned, sipping a drink from his mug.

"Wow, this is really good! I like it," James said enthusiastically, looking right at you. His brown eyes seemed to look straight into your soul, and you swallowed nervously again, licking your lips, feeling how for a second his gaze dropped just below your eyes.

"Thank you..." James tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at you expectantly.

You said your full name softly, and James seemed to echo it, tasting it. You were quickly caught again, feeling your fluffy eyelashes tickle your cheeks. James shook and lowered his head, trying to hide his spreading grin. Apparently, he was not the only one in this cafe who was fascinated by his interlocutor.

"Well, thank you for the delicious tea. See you tomorrow, love," he winked at you before leaving the cafe.

The endearing name came out of James's mouth so easily that for a second you were taken aback, standing rooted to the spot behind the cash desk with your mouth open, like a fish jumping onto dry land. But at the last moment, a quick goodbye escaped your lips, more like the creak of a door, and the ringing of a bell announced James's departure.

Through the big window, you watched him walk slowly along the street lit by lanterns, smiling like a madman and slowly sipping his tea, and something jumped in your chest.

You put your hand to your chest, feeling your heart beating hard against your rib cage, and then wrapped both hands around your cheeks, which pleasantly cooled your heated skin. And the only thing you could think about, standing in an empty coffee shop, looking at the door through which James came out, was that the barista's job might not have been so bad. At least as long as James appears in front of you, it definitely won't be bad.

And in order to see him again tomorrow, maybe you'll switch shifts with Marlene.

But only 'maybe'.

thankx for reading <3

for the first time in month, I had so much fun writing these one shot. so I hope you enjoyed it too. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

[ikkyfics]

Improvising Love

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James has been cast as Romeo and you hatch a daring plan to steal the role of Juliet. The script never stood a chance

Warnings: muggle!AU, fluffy, marauders making crazy plans

Masterlist

“Please.” James asked once again, stretching out the words in a syrupy tone while giving you that pleading look he knew was practically irresistible. To top it off, he exaggerated a pout—a weapon he loved using against you.

You, however, held your ground—or at least tried to. “No, James. I’m not getting on that stage. Give it up.” Your voice came out exasperated, but the irritation was more theatrical than genuine. You returned your gaze to the book in your hands, as if reading was remotely possible with your charming boyfriend so close to you. After classes, he had followed you home, sprawling out on your bed and begging for your attention. He was practically draped over you, his face resting just below your chest, purring like a kitten as your fingers combed through his unruly hair. Of course, he wasn’t satisfied sharing your attention with the book, occasionally nibbling on your skin whenever you stopped stroking his hair.

James, naturally, wasn’t ready to give up. “Love, I’ll be there with you.” He smiled softly, lifting his face to lock his eyes with yours. His fingers tapped the corner of the open book before he rested his chin on it, blocking your view. “Be my Juliet.”

It had been a few days since the school announced that auditions for Juliet’s role were open, and ever since James, who had landed the role of Romeo, had been asking you to try out.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “That’s the least romantic thing you could’ve said. Juliet? Seriously?”

He blinked, clearly offended. “They’re like, the most romantic couple of all time. It’s a classic!”

“It’s tragic,” you corrected without hesitation, shutting the book with more force than necessary. “They knew each other for what, a week? Two teenagers with raging hormones making impulsive decisions. No, thank you.”

James placed a hand on his chest as if he’d been stabbed. “That’s cruel. They died for love. True love, mind you.”

You sighed, a smile starting to creep up as you watched his dramatic expression. It was nearly impossible not to laugh when he pulled those faces. “James, they were way too young and completely reckless. If they had survived, they’d probably be divorced in five years.”

He looked genuinely outraged now, his eyes wide with indignation behind his glasses. “You can’t say that! They—”

Losing patience with the debate, you put the book aside and cupped his face in your hands. “The difference between us and them,” you began, softening your tone, “is that I would never lose you, James.”

The blush that painted his cheeks was instant, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. It was rare to leave him speechless, but whenever you did, you made sure to savor the moment. You took the opportunity to lean in, letting your lips brush across his face in soft kisses, relishing how warm and smooth his skin was. Magnificent. With each kiss, a sigh or a soft chuckle escaped him, bubbling out like music.

“I still think you’d make an amazing Juliet,” he murmured, his lips grazing your forehead as he returned the affection. “Just saying.”

(…)

A few days later, the afternoon passed peacefully, and by lunchtime, you found yourself surrounded by the Marauders in the school courtyard. Sirius took up most of the space beside you, lounging with his typical carefree attitude, while Remus sat quietly with a book open on his lap, his eyes glued to the pages. Peter, as usual, seemed more interested in the food than anything else, and James, seated by your side, made sure to keep one of his hands intertwined with yours as he spoke.

“So, she refused to be Juliet,” James announced to the group, his tone laced with fake indignation.

Sirius let out a loud laugh, brushing his dark hair away from his face. “Can’t believe you thought she’d agree. She hates being the center of attention; you know that.”

“Exactly!” you said, pointing a fry at Sirius before popping it into your mouth. “Finally, someone who gets me.”

James rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’re all so unromantic. Where’s your artistic spirit?”

“Probably running away from you,” Sirius quipped with a sarcastic grin. “But honestly, she’s right. Romeo and Juliet are just two love-drunk idiots. The story makes no sense.”

“Oh, not you too,” James groaned, throwing his head back. “Remus, at least you agree with me?”

Remus glanced up from his book, clearly uninterested in joining the debate. “I agree with whatever lets me get back to reading,” he said, returning to his pages.

Peter chuckled through a mouthful of food. “I think it’d be funny if she agreed just to make James all nervous on stage.”

“I don’t get nervous,” James said, offended, though Sirius’s mischievous grin suggested he was just getting started.

The conversation flowed, full of teasing and laughter. James stole the occasional kiss from you between exchanges, making sure to grab your attention with overly sweet gestures that earned complaints from the group—Sirius especially. He wasted no time making comments about how the two of you were like rabbits and should find the nearest room already.

Later, during a free period, you found James sitting in the library, his eyes fixed on the script, pausing only to adjust his glasses. He looked focused, but the smile on his face made it clear he was enjoying the challenge.

You took a moment to admire him. Honestly, he was painfully handsome—messy hair, vibrant blue eyes, brimming with untamed energy. His dark brows furrowed as he read, absentmindedly twirling a yellow highlighter between his fingers. You caught yourself staring at the way he bit his lip, wishing you could do it yourself.

Curious, you approached him quietly, watching as he flipped through the papers. That’s when you noticed the section highlighted in yellow: Romeo kisses Juliet.

Your stomach twisted. Kiss. A kiss between Romeo and Juliet. A kiss between James and another girl.

The thought sounded ridiculous, but the discomfort was undeniable. A pang of jealousy surged from your chest to your throat, and before you realized it, you were standing with crossed arms, staring at James with an expression hard to decipher.

He finally noticed you, breaking into a smile when he saw how close you were. “Everything okay?” he asked, oblivious to what you’d just seen.

You simply nodded, forcing a smile. The silence following your discovery seemed to weigh heavily in the air, even as you tried to act like nothing had happened. It didn’t take long for James to realize something was off. He set the script aside and studied you, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as you fidgeted.

You bit your lip, hesitating. “Why didn’t you tell me about… that?”

“That what?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to sound casual, though your hand gesturing toward the script trembled slightly. “The kiss, James. Why didn’t you mention there’d be a kiss in the play?”

He blinked, his expression now completely skeptical. “Seriously? It’s Romeo and Juliet. It’d be weird not to have a kiss. Did you think I’d, what, shake Juliet’s hand?”

Your face burned instantly, and you crossed your arms in an attempt to hide your discomfort. “You could’ve given me a heads-up,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

James chuckled softly, the kind of sound that made your heart stutter even when you were upset. He stepped closer before you could pull away, wrapping his arms around your waist with an ease that felt intimate and natural.

“Hey,” he said gently, his fingers tipping your chin up to meet his gaze. “You know there’s no one I’d want to kiss but you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he silenced you, pressing his lips softly against yours as if savoring something precious. He kissed you so tenderly it made you feel weightless, like a cloud. “Your lips,” he murmured against your skin, slightly breathless, “are like honey. I could kiss them forever.”

The blush spreading across your cheeks was unavoidable, and for a moment, you let yourself relax against him. James had a unique way of making the world feel less complicated. But even as he planted a few more soft kisses along your neck, the unease returned. The thought of another girl—even in acting—sharing a moment like this with him unsettled you deeply.

(…)

The Great Hall was bustling, but the table where you usually sat with the Marauders felt strangely empty without James. He had left earlier for rehearsal, which, of course, only filled your mind with unwelcome thoughts. The kiss. Was that what he was rehearsing? The idea was unbearable. You wondered how many times he and the “Juliet” would have to go over that scene, how many times she would feel his lips on hers, even if it was just acting.

“Are you listening to me?” Sirius’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you realized he was staring at you with an expression that was equal parts curious and amused.

“Hm?” you mumbled, trying to push away the images that insisted on forming in your mind.

“I said you look awful,” he repeated, grinning unapologetically.

“Thanks, Sirius. That’s exactly what I needed to hear,” you replied, rolling your eyes as Remus unsuccessfully tried to stifle a smile.

“I’m serious, what’s wrong?” Peter asked, biting into a piece of buttered bread.

You hesitated for a moment but finally admitted, “It’s James… He has to rehearse that scene. You know the one.”

Sirius’s eyes widened theatrically. “Oh no! The kiss! The unforgivable crime!”

“It’s not funny,” you grumbled, staring at your plate as if the food could offer some comfort.

“A kiss is just a kiss,” you said, more defensively than you’d intended.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, clearly sensing an opportunity to tease. “Oh, so that’s it. You’re jealous of poor Juliet?”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could deny it, he continued, “If you want to keep James’s lips all to yourself so badly, why not get rid of Juliet?”

Remus snapped his book shut instantly, looking horrified. “For the love of Merlin, Sirius. Don’t encourage this.”

Sirius laughed, utterly unfazed by Remus’s disapproval. “I’m serious. Think about it: a Romeo without a Juliet? Tragic. Poetic. Brilliant, really.”

Peter, chewing absentmindedly, finally chimed in, “That would be… hilarious, actually.”

Remus let out a long-suffering sigh, looking directly at you. “Please tell me you’re not considering this.”

But, of course, you were. The idea, absurd as it seemed, began to take shape in your mind. Sirius noticed the hesitation on your face and smirked mischievously.

“Ah, I knew you had a scheming side,” he said, pointing at you with a slice of pizza. “Come on, you’ve got my full support.”

“This is insane,” Remus interjected, clearly frustrated. “You’re going to ruin the whole play. Why can’t you just… I don’t know, trust James?”

“I do trust him,” you replied quickly, but there was something in your voice that made Remus raise an eyebrow.

“Alright,” Sirius said, completely ignoring Remus’s scolding look. “Let’s make a plan. How exactly are we getting rid of Juliet?”

You hesitated, but Peter was the one who suggested, “What if… we swapped her out? Like, no one would notice if it happened at the last second, right?”

Sirius snapped his fingers. “Exactly! Right before the kiss, she disappears, and you take her place. Brilliant.”

“This won’t work,” Remus insisted, exasperated. “You’re ignoring all the possible complications. It’s a live performance, for Merlin’s sake.”

“And that’s exactly why it will work,” Sirius countered.

You were still processing how far this idea might go, but there was something irresistibly tempting about the possibility of keeping James from kissing someone else.

“Okay,” you said finally, and even Sirius looked surprised for a moment.

Remus ran a hand down his face, clearly resigned. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”

“Don’t worry, Moony,” Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’ll be epic.”

As lunch ended, your mind was made up. The plan was risky, but you weren’t going to back out. Besides, with Sirius on your side, at the very least, it would be entertaining.

The following days required a great deal of effort to keep James from suspecting anything. You managed to get a copy of the script, and the boys helped you memorize the lines. It was embarrassing, and you considered abandoning the plan more than once, but Sirius quickly got you back on track. The hardest part was getting the costume, but the girl in charge of it was distracted enough for you to “borrow” the dress and accessories.

Before you knew it, the day of the performance had arrived.

Tension hung in the air as you put the final details of the plan into action. Sirius, Peter, and Remus were in their positions, each with their own task. The chaos was about to unfold, and you weren’t sure if you were more anxious or terrified about what would happen.

James had passed through the backstage area moments earlier, completely unaware of the storm about to break. He wore the Romeo costume, his hair neatly combed back, and, most shocking of all, he wasn’t wearing his glasses. You nearly lost your breath. The costume was flawless; he could have easily been part of a Hollywood cast. His unruly curls had been tamed, and silvery powder highlighted his cheekbones, making them sharp enough to cut glass. It was James, but in a way you’d never seen him before, and your mind swirled with admiration and nervousness.

He smiled in that way that made your heart race and approached to wish you good luck before heading to the stage. “I can’t believe they’re letting me do this without glasses,” he said casually, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Hope I don’t trip.”

You laughed, though your throat was dry. “You’ll be amazing.”

He gave you a curious look, as if sensing something unusual, but said nothing. “See you later, yeah?”

“Of course,” you replied, trying to sound casual. He disappeared down the hallway, and for a moment, everything felt suspended in time. Until your friends appeared silently.

“Let’s go,” Sirius said, breaking through your daze. “It’s now or never.”

You gathered in a hidden corner where you quickly changed into Juliet’s costume. The outfit felt like an elaborate trap—full of layers, lace, and a suffocating corset—but there was no time to complain. Sirius handed you the final accessory as Peter and Remus ensured the real Juliet remained “secured” in the wardrobe where she was temporarily “stored.” The girl barely had time to react before Peter clumsily informed her of a last-minute change and suggested she touch up her makeup. Sirius promptly locked the door, shouting an apology as he ran to join you and the others.

“Ready?” Remus asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

You took a deep breath and nodded, even though your mind was a mess. “Thanks, guys, you’re the best.” You hugged them all at once.

“I know, darling,” Sirius quipped, hugging you back with his leather jacket creaking slightly.

“You have to go, now,” Remus reminded you. You nodded, nerves tying knots in your stomach.

“You’ve got this,” Peter said gently, squeezing your hand.

Forcing your legs to move, you walked with your head down to keep anyone from noticing Juliet’s mysterious transformation. Your heart pounded painfully as you stepped onto the stage.

The curtain rose.

The stage lights were brighter than you’d imagined, momentarily blinding you. Your vision adjusted slowly, and then you saw him. James stood at the center of the stage, completely focused on the scene. The surprise on his face when his eyes met yours was something you would never forget.

He froze for a moment, confused, but, ever the professional, continued the play, his expression shifting between shock and fascination.

You stumbled over the first lines but quickly remembered the nights rehearsing with Sirius, who, surprisingly, had a hidden talent for theater. The audience didn’t seem to notice anything—or, if they did, they were too engrossed to care.

And then came the scene you dreaded most.

James approached slowly, his footsteps echoing on the stage as you struggled to maintain your composure. His voice was steady and passionate, clear and brimming with emotion.

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

He extended his hand, as if to touch yours, but paused, the gesture suspended in the air. You stepped forward, your lines hesitant but laden with an emotion you couldn’t hide.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

James’s breath hitched for a moment. He seemed almost to forget the audience, his eyes fixed on yours in a way that made the world fade away.

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

The tension was palpable, the moment stretching as if time itself had slowed. When James leaned in, his hand lightly touching your face, your knees felt like they might give out.

And then, he kissed you. Gently moving his lips against yours, coaxing them to part so he could slide into your mouth, making you sigh passionately.

It was brief, but it was everything you had imagined—and more. The sensation of his lips on yours was both surreal and painfully real, every detail etched into your memory. The audience applauded, but the sound seemed distant, muffled by the beating of your heart.

When the scene ended, you separated, but James’ gaze remained locked on yours, as if he had forgotten there was an audience around him.

Backstage, after the curtains finally closed, James didn’t waste a second.

“So, care to explain what that was?” he asked, his voice tinged with surprise but also something gentler.

“It was… an improvisation,” you said, trying to sound casual, though your tone was clearly defensive. The Marauders were nowhere to be seen, and now that the adrenaline was fading, your knees felt weaker by the second.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Improvisation, huh? Don’t tell me Sirius had something to do with this.”

You shrugged, trying not to blush, but he laughed, stepping closer.

“I have to admit,” he said, leaning in so only you could hear, “you were an incredible Juliet. Better than I imagined.”

Your heart felt like it might explode, but you couldn’t help teasing him. “And you? Did you manage to get through it without tripping over yourself?”

He laughed, shaking his head, and took your hand in his, lifting it to press a tender kiss to your knuckles.

“If I do trip,” he said softly, “you’ll catch me, won’t you?”

You nodded, unable to say a word, fully aware that you’d be willing to do anything for him.

In the end, you were more like Juliet than you’d ever thought.

[silence-between-seconds]

In marauders era muggle aus if you don't make Regulus save Sirius' contact name as "Rough Draft" then what is the point

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

sirius black : model.

[brandileigh2003]

Older wolfstar fic recs: (older in age that is)

let me know what I missed and self recs are welcome (also as always check tags for each one to protect yourself)

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

**And I know older is relative term bc most of these wolfstar are in their 30s I do believe. But. They have more life experience than in Hogwarts or uni.

--orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond: divorced parents of teddy with one bed at his graduation

-Honey If I'm Not by @brigid-faye divergent post war where remus left, jily lived, and wolfstar only reconnects years later by chance. (Also has a Sirius pov)

---used my best colours for your portrait by @littleoldrachel lie low at Lupin's with flashbacks exploring remus' life

-Looking for Moony by Writer_INFJ_2w1: meet and fall in love birthday party

-Flight of Destiny by @lucigoo lesbian wolfstar meet on plane (Luci also has several others where they're older and lots of beautiful fics

--Aging Gracelessly by orphan_account: texting fic

--the mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual divorced wolfstar get back together, raising teddy

-Second Generation by MsAlexWP single parents, getting back together. The sequel is so perfect too! It's a Nice Day for a Wolfstar Wedding

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe (second in series is mcd but this one is open ending)

-Of Memories and Milk Thievery by moonymoment raising teddy, get back together

--Birthday Blues by YouBlitheringIdiot @blitheringmcgonagall :Sirius is turning sixty and he is appalled...

--Give Quarter to Old Men - @krethes series

--dear your holiness by mollymarymarie

--The Postwar Chronicles by @sliebman10 post canon series

-Vigil Strange I Kept by whitmans_kiss explores effects of lycanthropy

--ten reasons (to go to michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 remus headed home, trying to move on from divorce

--Prettiest Star Verse by Raging_queer

-I didn’t sign up for this by Moonystoastandmarsbar divorced wolfstar

-Of Protein Powders and PTAs by @squintclover and @tracingpatternswrites rivals to lovers

-An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account raising teddy strangers to lovers

--The Road Not Taken by @mollymarymarie

-extra credit by MsAlexWP rivals to lovers

-Baby On Board by aqua_myosotis

-Of Memories, Bitter and Sweet by MsAlexWP memory loss

**luci's recs

-my love, take care of yourself by littleoldrachel

-How to romance a guy with (terrible) poetry by BayleyWinchester

-Teddy Plays Matchmaker by grow_as_we_go

-The Front Step Surprise by R33sesPieces

**Recs from others** (I haven't read all these yet but wanted to include)

--Just what the doctor ordered by WrappedUp (be aware there is age gap)

--The Lab by de_sire again an age gap

-Till We Have Arrived Home Again by prouvairing divergent post canon raising harry

-The Patchwork of Us by TracingPatterns

-The Things I Did by Lolo_row

-The Phoenix Agency by LupinsChocolatePraline

-The Fall by EuripidesTrousers

-Pages of You by wolfpants this is drarry main but apparently background wolfstar is really good

-Just Like Heaven by the_prettiest_w0lf_star: mechanic Sirius and librarian Remus

-soloorganaas

-impishtubist

***Self rec***

--Memories of You: mcd exploring memory loss

--Through the Years: Sirius thinks about the past and how handsome his husband is while holding their granddaughter.

--DN(R): Lie low at Lupin's era where they discuss decisions Remus made in the lost years.

**also- the wolfstar librarian is always a great resource make sure to give some likes on posts: 30yo and Up part 2 Bring Black Back Back from the Veil Lie Low at Lupin’s Post Azkaban Grimmauld Place

--Feel free to check my other rec lists, as well as the rest of my fics

--also ... This is list of canon divergent fic recs: post-azkaban, bring back black, lie low at lupins. Lots of same fics but I might not have all in both places.

[fae-whispers]

*at a zoo*  Sirius: What are they in for?  Remus: Sirius, this isn't prison.  Sirius: So they can leave?  Remus: No, but-  Sirius, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

[ellecdc]

elle, my love. my darling. could I be the biggest pest and request maybe something with our beloved barty jr? like maybe you know of him but don’t really know him but someone is bugging you at a party and you ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he plays the role just a little too well?

Ilysm darling 🖤

for you, sab? anything

Barty Crouch Junior x fem!reader who asks him to pretend to be her boyfriend

CW: harassment - a guy won't leave reader alone at a bar, drinking/bar culture, there is perhaps one sentence that is sort of explicit but the rest is PG and then fades to black

You had tried everything to shake this guy off of you; from polite no thank you’s, to hiding in the loo, to pretending not to notice when he was standing right beside you. You had even attempted the tried-and-true “I have a boyfriend”, to which he simply replied “I don’t see him anywhere”. 

You were soon going to resort to a well-timed uppercut, and though you did think the man deserved a good fist to the nose, you weren’t quite willing to resort to violence - yet. 

You were ducking behind raised arms and navigating around bodies in an attempt to rid yourself of your tormentor when salvation came in the form of an unlikely classmate.

“Junior!” You whisper shouted - a name you heard many of his friends refer to him as - as you slid in between him and the bar he was lazily sat at; if you could call what he was doing sitting. He was perched, possibly less than half of each arse cheek actually on the stool, with both of his legs splayed out in a way that would get anyone else punched in the teeth for daring to take up so much room at a bar, but he blended in like he was simply part of the decor. 

“Do I know you, sugar?” He drawled from the rim of his cup; green eyes scrutinizing you though he seemed no less pleased by your proximity due to his unfamiliarity with you. 

“I- sorry, we have statistics together?”

Barty simply swallowed his sip and continued staring at you.

“Mondays and Wednesdays? 1:30 to 3:00?” You clarified. 

He blinked slowly at that.

“With Professor Flitwick.”

“Yeah, yeah; third row from the back, prefers taking handwritten notes but insists on hauling your laptop ‘round with you too which acts as no more than a glorified paperweight. You have a fuzzy jumper that you wear almost everywhere.” 

“I- well…yeah?”

“Right, so how does that bring us here?” He continued as if you had been the one making this conversation particularly difficult. 

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” You blurted.

“Okay.” Barty agreed readily with a shrug as he placed his now empty cup on the bar. “Why?”

Stunned somewhat stupid by his willingness, you suddenly remembered that you had someone pursuing you. 

“There’s this bloke-”

“Which bloke?” He cut you off, sliding one of his legs between both of yours before pulling you towards him so you were just about straddling his thigh. 

In an attempt to hide your blush at Barty’s blaseness, and what you would later tell yourself was you simply trying to lean into the part of girlfriend, you nuzzled into Barty’s side to purvey the surrounding crowd. 

“That guy there, with the beanie.” You whispered into his ear as you gestured towards the guy; swallowing the surprised yelp that threatened to escape your lips when you felt Barty’s possessive protective arm tighten around your middle. 

“Well…” Barty murmured quietly, turning his chin back towards you; his lips hovering just over your collarbone. “That just won’t do, will it?”

You shook your head quickly, ignoring the racing of your heart, the way that the bass vibrated through your core, or the heat that was beginning to pool inside of you as he propped up his knee so that you were now officially straddling his thigh.

“Has he been bugging you, doll?” He asked lowly then, bringing his hand that wasn’t currently wrapped around your waist to push a lock of hair away from your face. 

“He won’t leave me alone.” You whispered; finding yourself embarrassingly close to tears for the first time all night, simply because some random guy who showed up to perhaps half of your shared statistics classes (though he somehow still had perfect scores) was offering you his protection.

A sympathetic dent in between Barty’s eyebrows formed at your words as he pouted at you. “My poor girl.” He all but purred as he brought his face mere millimeters away from yours before bumping his nose to your own. “How do you want this to go?” He whispered.

“Whichever way it needs to so that he’ll leave me alone.”

Apparently not needing any further directions, Barty slotted your lips together with an intensity that had your head ringing as he pulled you higher up onto his lap; body’s so close you were almost certain you could feel his heartbeat in your own chest. 

His hand that was wrapped around your waist started to slide up the back of your shirt where he rubbed the skin of your lower back, as the other rested just under your jaw, his touch far softer and more delicate than the way in which he kissed you.

You leaned further into him, whimpering at the sensation of your core sliding tantalizingly against his denim pants; the thin satiny material of your panties no match for the electricity of feeling so wholly consumed by Barty Crouch Junior.

You’d almost forgotten this was all a ruse when Barty abruptly pulled away from you.

“Oi! You got a fuckin’ problem?” He shouted at your stalker, garnering the attention of a few bar patrons around you.

You sunk impossibly further into Barty’s side at the attention, and relished in the gentle strokes he brushed at the skin of your hip in response. 

“Is there a problem?” One of the bartenders barked then; looking a certain brand of intense you supposed was likely part of the training to be a bartender at a club in a college town. 

“This tosser’s been bothering my girl all night.” Barty responded simply, weaseling his other arm around your middle as he returned his attention back to you. “You okay, sugar?” 

You nodded at him and rested your forehead against his as you let out a steadying breath. “Thank you.”

Barty snorted at that. “‘Course, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t look out for my girl, hm?” 

You chuckled breathlessly before smiling softly at him, noticing that he was doing the same as his emerald gaze darted between your eyes.

“Wanna get out of here?” He whispered as he dared to inch his hand further up your back.

God, did you ever.

[uhhlifeig]

Drift - Dec. 30th - word count: 342 - @wolfstarmicrofic

When Remus Lupin envisioned a day off, it usually consisted of a lot of books and chocolate. 

Not today, though.

James had dragged him along to see his friend Sirius Black race on the track, and Remus couldn’t really turn him down, could he? (He could, but that was beside the point.)

So that was how he found himself standing in the proximity of one of the hottest people to ever exist, and who was apparently James’s friend. 

Honestly, why hadn’t James introduced us before this race? Remus thought.

“Jam! You’re here!” Sirius screeched as he noticed James standing there. He launched himself at him, not caring about the whispers or potential rumors.

Once Sirius had calmed down enough to notice Remus, he pried himself off of James. 

“Hey,” Sirius said to Remus. “Nice to meet you. I assume you’re the Remus that James has been telling me about?”

Remus nodded, swallowing dryly. “Yeah. You’re Sirius Black, right? Nice drift earlier, it was cool.” Shit, why was he being so awkward? Fuck.

“Yeah, I’m Sirius Black,” Sirius chucked, turning around and pointing at the back of his racing suit where it read Black in big, bold letters. “Did this give it away?”

Oh, so he had a sense of humor. Fuck. 

“Hm, what do you think?” Remus quipped back, falling back on his sarcasm as a last resort. “Or maybe it was because I was brought here by James to see you?”

Sirius turned back around, eying Remus thoughtfully. “I like you,” he finally remarked. “You’re cool. We should go out sometime, get to know each other better.”

“Yes!” James yelled from where he was standing next to Remus and also simultaneously scaring the life out of him. If he was being honest, he’d kind of forgotten that James was there. 

“Mate, you set us up, didn’t you,” Sirius sighed. It was more an accusation than a question. “Anyways,” he said, turning back to Remus. “Let’s ignore him. Can I have your number?”

And what could Remus say to him but “yes”?

[mischievousmoony]

𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛

⟢ james potter x reader (who is skilled at gift wrapping) ⟢ you and james wrap christmas gifts for your kids last minute ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: no warnings? lmk if i missed anything

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The crisp rustle of wrapping paper tears through the air as you unravel a sheet long enough for a rather larger box. 

You and your husband, decked in matching holiday pajamas, are sitting on the dark hardwood floor of your bedroom. Surrounding you are various presents that you’re working tirelessly to wrap late this Christmas Eve. 

“Why do we do this every year? Scratch that— why do I let you convince me to do this every year?” you suddenly ask when you get a glimpse of the clock on your nightstand. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asks on an exhale of airy laughter. 

“Oh, nothing,” you hum as you measure out how much paper you’ll need. “Just trying to figure out how I let myself marry a chronic procrastinator. And how I let him be such a bad influence on me.”

James falters, dropping the flaps of snowflake-decorated paper he was about to tape down. 

“A chronic procrastinator? A bad influence!?”

You press your lips together to hold back a smile. “Keep wrapping. It’s almost three in the morning,” you say as your scissors satisfyingly glide through the wrapping paper. 

“No,” James protests, pushing the gift away from him and crossing his arms petulantly. “Not until we address your little comment.”

“See, you’re procrastinating right now by trying to start a debate about whether or not you have a problem,” you tease, your lips involuntarily turning up at the corners.

“It sounds like you want to finish the wrapping by yourself,” he jokes, but you both know he’d never leave you hanging. 

“Oh, come on,” you laugh. “If we had it my way the presents would have been wrapped ages ago. They would’ve been wrapped the moment we brought them home.”

“Why would we wrap one present at a time when we could wait and wrap them all at once?” 

“Only a chronic procrastinator would ask why we should get ahead on our tasks.”

James knows you’ve got him there, so all he can do is huff. “Stop saying procrastinate it doesn’t sound like a word anymore.”

“Alright, slacker,” you say through a grin.

James rolls his eyes dramatically as he repositions himself from sitting up to lying on his side. “I’m not a slacker,” he says, propping his head up on his elbow, “I just want to be efficient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up as James denies his tendency for putting off his tasks as he gets comfortable in front of a half-wrapped present. 

“Yeah, real efficient,” you say as you carefully fold the paper at the corners, creating perfect trapezoids on the sides of the box, which you tape down with a small square of sellotape. 

He takes notice of the look you gave him, and provides an excuse. “I’m just taking a break.” 

“This is the definition of slacking, by the way. C’mon we’re going to be dead tired tomorrow.”

“We’ll be fine, it’s only 3 a.m.,” James says as if it’s barely midnight. Regardless, he pushes himself back into a seated position and finishes taping down the paper over the box that holds a new toy truck for you son.

“Last Christmas the kids were jumping in our beds by seven,” you say, very matter-of-factly. 

“If they’re awake that early I’ll corral them to the kitchen and make a big breakfast with them to give you an extra hour,” he promises as he reaches for a new roll of wrapping paper— a dark green one with cartoon reindeers printed all over.

“You need sleep too.”

James shrugs. “Well, it was my fault we procrastinated wrapping these anyway.”

“Oh? So you admit it now?”

“What can I say? Is it so bad that after we put the kids down and I was all alone with my beautiful wife I’d rather cuddle or catch up on our shows or… other things.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“Other things?” you snort. 

“Yeah. Wanna do them right now?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

“James!” you scold him as a blush heats your face. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll focus.” He reaches for the slowly dwindling pile of presents and picks one that looks easy to wrap. You both prefer to leave the more complicated ones to you, as you always seem to have some unique way to wrap the strangest shapes. 

“Not that one!” you stop him. “That one’s from Santa, you have to use the shiny red paper and the golden bows.” 

“What? I picked this one,” he says, turning over the box of a new doll for your daughter. “I don’t want to give Santa all the credit!” James pouts. 

“And you’ll get it. In about ten years, give or take, when we tell them it was all a lie in the name of Christmas spirit.” 

James laughs and takes a look at the clock that reads 3:16 a.m. Santa can have this one, James decides. Even if he did continue to protest, you would probably convince him in the end. 

For the next twenty minutes, you two get lost in the rhythm of wrapping. With James handling the simple boxes, and you expertly finishing the oddly shaped ones, folding the paper in ways that obscure the gift’s silhouette while adding an elegant touch. 

You know your kids won’t give the wrapping a second thought, and it will all end up torn into bits on the floor, but you just love the way they all look under the tree. So perfectly arranged and beautifully wrapped, it makes Christmas feel all the more special.

As you straighten out a bow made from hand curled ribbons on the top of a dollhouse, pre-assembled for play tomorrow morning, James hisses and drops the paper he’s working with. You look up at him as he brings his finger up to his lips.

“Ow, ow!” 

“Y’alright?” you ask. 

“I’ve been injured! Wounded! No one told me how hazardous gift wrapping would be!” he wails dramatically, cradling his right hand with his left. 

You laugh at the sight of him, gathering that he has probably gotten a paper cut. Shuffling over to him on your knees, you outstretch your hand. “Let me see.”

He puts his hand in yours and you turn it over to inspect his pointer finger. It takes you half a minute to find the small slice in the top layer of skin. It’s nearly impossible to see, and you’re sure the pain has subsided now. Still, you bring his hand to your lips and press a soft kiss over the small cut. 

“Better?” you mumble against his skin. 

“Almost. I think I have another injury right here.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes to find him tapping his lips, puckered and awaiting a kiss. 

You shake your head at his antics but oblige him anyway and connect your lips in a gentle kiss. James’ right hand snakes out of your grip so he can wrap it around your waist to hold you into the kiss for a little longer. 

“Come on,” you say as you begin to pull away, “we only have a few more presents between us and those fresh homemade cookies laying out for Santa.”

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